


Freedom

by Wookieil



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Domestic Violence, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28839909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wookieil/pseuds/Wookieil
Summary: In which Theon thought death could bring him freedom.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I am back with another one-shot. This one is rather short, and it didn't turn out exactly like I pictured it in my mind but I still like the result, it's actually better than my original idea. Hope you all will like it!  
> Please remember english isn't my first language, so if anything its off that's why. Also please read the tags or you might have a very unpleasant surprised reading this, you have been warned.  
> Kudos and comments are very appreciate, so is constructive criticism :)
> 
> Laters!

* * *

The white, frozen snow rained quietly from the midnight sky, slowly accumulating in the deserted streets across the town, burying the last remaining grass on the yards, falling outside a particular mute house. Surrounded by the darkness of the living room sea-green eyes watched the gloomy spectacle from the window, as the colourful lights from the christmas tree were reflected on the cristal, giving the snow a bright shine as it fall copiously outside. Theon watched it in dead silence, sitting in his designated corner, beside the tall and large christmas tree, feeling the tips of some branches scratching his cheek as a soft puff of air left his mouth and fogged the cold window for a moment, before Theon's trembling arm reached out to clean the fog with his ragged sweater.

Letting his eyes fell to the old garment Theon remembred the wool used to be bright red, and the band in the middle of the sweater was as white as the snow falling outside, just like the little mistletoe on it was green as the spring grass. It was a christmas gift, from Robb, one that meant to be a joke but Theon liked the present nonetheless. As hideous as everyone told him it was he wore it that christmas, and that new year's eve, and every time Robb and him got out that winter break. Theon didn't remember how long it had been since he got it, probably four years. Maybe more, maybe less. But the bright red wool was a dark, muddy color then, the white band across the sweater turned an ashy grey, and the green mistletoe in the middle of it had stains of grease and dirt and _other things_ Theon wasn't able to wash out. The fabric was already old, it wasn't soft at all, and it was so stretched out sometimes it fell from his shoulders and Theon had to pushed it back in place to not feel the winter air against his bare, scarred skin. It had holes as well, small and big ones, scattered on the sleeves and all over it, and Theon wondered how much longer it could last before the seams gave out and the sweater just crumbled down.

“Not much longer _”_ , Theon thought as he pulled the sleeves pass his incompleted hands, teeth worrying on his split bottom lip.

It hurt, a lot, but Theon still bite on his wounded flesh because breathing hurt too, and walking hurt as well, even standing hurt, yet Theon had learn to still do things even if it hurt.

 _Or it will hurt worse_ , a dark voice whispered in his ears and Theon trembled, feeling tears in the brim of his eyes, and his nervous gaze fell on the big watch on the living room's wall, noticing it was fifteen minutes past midnight.

“Not much longer” Theon thought again, taking a long, deep breath, as his gaze wander down the wall, finding the shelf beneath the clock were a few pictures were laid out.

Somehow looking at them still hurt, after all this time, and Theon was a bit surprised still hurt. He thought those memories didn't cause anything in him anymore, thought he heart was numb already, thought he had manage to dissociate those faces and that past long ago. But Theon found himself tearing up as he looked at the pictures, as he looked at his own big smile behind the glass, as he looked at the tender way the man behind him was hugging him. Old memories stabbed his torn heart and Theon closed his eyes, seeing the images playing behind his heavy eyelids.

Theon remembered when he met Ramsay, remembered it so vively. The retro music playing in the club was loud in his ears, just like it was that cursed night. The smell of smoke and alcohol stinked in his nose, and the taste of bitter bear was still in his taste buds. Theon remembered it was a rainy winter night but inside the club was like hot springs, his clothes were clinging into him, like a second skin. But Theon didn't mind, he was having a great time. He remembered Robb and Jon told him to slow down on the drinking as he made his way back to the bar but he didn't listen, because all he wanted then was to stand beside the handsome man who had been staring at him across the dance floor. Theon remembered how he smiled when the man's blue eyes set on his hazy sean-green ones and as soon as Theon heard the playful tone of Ramsay's voice he was _enchanted_.

It took nothing for Ramsay to catch him, Theon had always been desperate for love and attention and Ramsay being the sly man he was didn't hesitate to give him exactly that. Or fake to gave him what he was yearning for, in fact. Theon remembered things took a turn too fast. Ramsay's loving gaze was cold in a month, his playful tone was then a sarcastic and mocking ring in his voice, and his words had always a threat in them. Theon remembered he thought Ramsay maybe was stressed, maybe something happened and he didn't want to tell him. Theon even thought it was something he did, maybe there was something _wrong_ with him, maybe there was something about him that annoyed Ramsay and Theon even tried to changed what he thought was upsetting his boyfriend.

But when Ramsay forbited him to meet with Robb and Jon, when Ramsay pushed him to cut ties with his sister, when Ramsay forced him to quit his job, when Ramsay took his phone and made him moved in with him Theon knew there was nothing upsetting Ramsay. It took Theon too long to realized the beast Ramsay was. Took too long to understand the love Ramsay showed was nothing but a pretty facade, that his smiles had always been derisive smirks, that the sweet words Ramsay whispered against his lips were pure toxic venom, that the tender look in Ramsay's deep blue eyes was only malice. Suddenly everything was clear to Theon, and yet he had been surprised the first time his boyfriend's caresses turned into punches. Theon had been so surprised he tried to leave, and surprised soon turned into horror when Ramsay dragged him to the basement of the house to chained him and flayed his little finger as punishment.

Theon understood what Ramsay _really_ was that day, and never tried to leave again.

A shiver ran down his bony spine at the memory and Theon sobbed quietly, eyes opening to stare at the old picures again. After all those years it still hurt. Every missing piece, every cut, every burnt, every scar hurt as Theon remembered what Ramsay put him through. But Theon thought being deceived hurt the most, the way Ramsay played with his feelings and enjoyed toying with him was something Theon could never overcome. He truly thought he had found someone special when he met Ramsay, he honestly thought life was finally giving him a chance to be happy, that he was worth to be loved, that he deserved to be loved... Still hurt to know it wasn't like that at all. That it never was like that, not for one second. It hurt Theon to know it was nothing but a game to Ramsay. Hurt to know somehow he had put himself in another self destructive situation.

Fate was something Theon never really believed in, but in all those years with Ramsay, after what had happened with his own family, Theon thought he was bound to live in misery, just loveless. Theon thought he was attracted to people whom could never love him, as much as he was attracted to the burning senstion of alcohol in the back of his throat and the addictive feeling of drugs stunning his head, running fast through his beating veins. Chasing after people who had no plan on loving him, on caring about him; people who tried their best to push him away, who laughed at his need of afection and attention; people who used him and abused him till their hearts content. It was all as destructive as the strong liquor he liked to feast on and the substances he shoot and sniff in wild nights. His life was a vicious circle... Theon was a fool to believe he could escape it.

_There was no escape. Not ever._

“ _I_ will be my end” Theon thought dejected, hugging his legs as his sad eyes set on the wooden floor beneath his feet.

Theon was going to be his own end, even if it were by Ramsay's hands, it was Theon who put himself before him. It was Theon, who always looked for ways to hurt himself, who wanted to feel the pain, who needed the break himself into pieces, who put himself to Ramsay's _mercy_. It was Theon's own destructive nature who lead himself to his executioner. Unconsciously, of course. Deep down Theon didn't really wanted to hurt, deep down all Theon wanted was to see who could reach out for him, who could come to his rescue, who could _care_. Even if he knew the people he needed to see couldn't show up, the people who he had desperately needed were the ones who made him that way, who pushed him into the jaws of the monster in the first place... his life really was the most vicious circle, indeed.

Gripping the tough fabric of his old jeans Theon bite his split lip hard, focusing on the pain rather than on the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. He couldn't help to think about Robb, his best friend, who did tried to help him in so many occasions but Theon didn't exactly wanted Robb to worry about him. Robb wasn't his father, nor his real brothers. Theon had always yearn for his own family to reach out for him, to show him the care and worry Robb did. The Greyjoys never were a kind of loving family, Theon had always known that, but at least he knew they care about each other, they cared for their own blood and flesh. His father cared about his brothers and his sister, and his siblings cared about each other just as much. Theon just wanted to be part of that as well, wanted to fit in his own family like everyone else did. Theon just wanted his father to be proud of him and his brothers to see him as an equal, and his sister to hug him like his mother used to hug him.

Theon soon understood he didn't have a father, that his sister wasn't his mother, and his only brother was Robb.

Robb who Theon pushed away whenever things got difficult. Robb who Theon used to run away from whenever he tried to fix their problems. Robb who used to take care of drunk, intoxicated Theon. Robb who used to text him at 12 o'clock on his birthday. Robb who was the only one who used to ask him how he was feeling whenever Theon felt down. Robb who was the only one who used to notice whenever Theon was feeling down. Robb who used to take him out his shady apartment to cheer Theon up whenever he isolated himself. Robb who more than once cancelled dates with his dream girls just to be there with Theon when he had a breakdown. Robb who had hugged him when Theon needed the most, who had hold him up when Theon wanted to fall, who had cared and loved Theon unconditionally, even in his darkest moments... even when Theon didn't care and love himself.

Theon was so miserable he couldn't even hold into the only person who made his existence a little better.

 _Robb doesn't care about you anyways. He isn't here to help you_ , the memory of Ramsay's voice whispered mockingly in his ears then, and Theon felt hot tears helplessly rolling down his face.

“He does care, he does. He had been looking for me, I know” Theon thought in despair, as his hands rushed to cover his face.

Ramsay liked to tell him, over and over again, that Robb didn't care about him. Especially on his birthday, Ramsay could always mention how Robb didn't even remember about it anymore.

 _It had been years, you can't be so stupid to think he stills remembers about you_ , Ramsay told him his last birthday, as he pinned Theon to the bed with a strong hand over his mouth and tore his clothes with his favorite blade.

Theon could never believe that. He could believe his father and brothers didn't waste any time looking for him, he could believe his sister probably did tried but not in the way Theon knew she could, that none of them even thought about him after years of being gone. But Robb could _not_ forget about him, Theon could bet his broken soul to it. His own blood and flesh could give up on him, but not Robb. Never Robb. His best friend was still out there looking for him, Theon had no doubt. Robb wasn't going to let him disappear, Theon knew everyone else could let him, could even wish he disappeared, but not Robb.

Theon knew everyone could let him die, but not Robb.

The problem was Ramsay was too good at keeping Theon hidden, and Theon could not dare to try to leave again.

“I can only wait” Theon thought sadly, dejected, wiping the warm tears off his face.

His empty sea-green eyes fell on the wall in front of him and Theon wonder if he really could still wait, if he was _able_ to wait. The scars and bruises engraved in his body pulsed painfully with his fearful heart and Theon swallowed slowly. He knew the answer very well. He just wished he was brave and strong enough to just end everything himself. But Theon couldn't...

White, bright lights suddenly flashed across the living room and Theon's mind stopped functioning for a moment. His heart sharply thrummed against his hollow chest as Theon heard the familiar sound of a engine turning off, along with the murmur of a door closing nearby. There were steps walking towards the house next, in a sure and steady rate, and just then Theon snapped out of his trance, mind racing in despair. He crawl on weak legs and arms till the living room's entrance, listening the loud noise of keys and the front door opening, and he kneeled there, with his eyes on the floor and his long, dirty hair falling over his face. The door closed and steps echoed softly in the house, aproching Theon, and when the lights illuminated the living room Theon swallowed thightly and stopped himself from crying.

-Hello, pet.- Ramsay's voice was low and fasely sweet as he spoke, with a vicious smirk on his face.

-Hello, master.- Theon greeted him with a weak murmur, and he trembled when a big hand fell on his head.

-Did you miss me, sweetling? Because I sure missed you.- Ramsay asked, calmly stroking his hair, and Theon could hear the mock in his tone.

-O-of course, master.- Theon said softly, feeling how the hand on his head slide to his cheek as Ramsay crouched before him.

-I trust you made your chores, yes?- Ramsay's voice was calm and obviously condescending.

-Yes, master. All of them.- Theon answered him slowly, feeling the nice way Ramsay's thumb caressed his cheek, smelling the copper scent of blood under his fingernails.

-Good boy.- Ramsay said then, and the smirk on his face grew wider.

The fingers on Theon's face moved to his chin, making him look up to Ramsay's dark blue eyes and Theon felt like crying upong seeing them.

-Love it when you behave, pet.- Ramsay told him in a low tone, gaze falling to the red cut on Theon's bottom lip then.

“You love it more when I don't behave” Theon thought sorrowful, watching how Ramsay leaned in closer to his face, feeling his heart wrench.

Ramsay kissed him slowly, sweetly, like he used to kiss him when he was still pretending to be the man Theon always hoped for. It was difficult to kiss him back, so hard to not let himself be fool again even if it was for a minute. It felt so real... but then Ramsay's teeth sank on his split lip and Theon whined painfully into the kiss, and just like that Theon was reminded the only real thing about Ramsay was his insatiable sadistic nature.

-You whine so prettily, pet.- Ramsay said against his mouth, licking the blood off Theon's lip.

And then he was moving close to Theon's ear, breathing calmly there, making the hair on the back of Theon's neck stand up and his skin crawl.

-Can't wait to _make_ you whine tonight.- Ramsay's whisper was a haunting promise, and Theon could only let a shaky breath out.

With one final kiss on the corner of Theon's mouth Ramsay stood up.

-Serve me dinner, pet. I'm starving.- he said with a smile a on his lips, as he made his way to the kitchen.

Shivering Theon stood up as well, taking rush steps, seeing Ramsay already seated on his place by the table. Theon quickly set a plate and the silverware with a napkin on the side, pouring Ramsay a glass of his favorite red wine. Theon could hear how calmly Ramsay sipped on it as he took the heavy turkey off the oven, and his mouth watered as he sliced it up. The meat was tender and juicy, Theon was glad the turkey didn't look dry, and the smell of all the spices of the roasted vegetables were flooding the small room. It looked delicious, and it smelled just as good... Theon wanted to cry at how hungry he was.

“Maybe he will let me eat the leftovers” Theon thought hopeful as he set the food on a silver tray, presenting it before his master on the table when he was done.

-This looks amazing, pet.- Ramsay grinned as Theon served him the dinner, watching him with icy and hungry eyes.

Theon made a great effort to look away from the enticing food as he placed the full plate in front of Ramsay, and then Theon took a few steps back to the living room area, standing there with his head hanging low and hearing the way Ramsay took one last sip of his wine, grabbing the silverwear and finally started eating his delicious dinner. Theon could only listen, he always had to listen. Theon had to listen to the knife tearing the tender meat apart, had to listen to the way Ramsay's sharp teeth scrapped against the fork whenever he took a bite, had to listen the loud way Ramsay chewed and swallowed his dinner. It was torturous, and Theon was sure his tomach was going to growl sooner or later and he could already hear Ramsay's mocking laugh.

But what Theon heard instead was Ramsay setting the silverwear down on the table, just after one single bite.

Theon didn't have time to wonder why when Ramsay stoop up and walked up to him with fast steps. Theon barely saw the tip of his new sport shoes before Ramsay grabbed his hair and pulled at it, dragging Theon to the burning fireplace in the middle of the living room.

-Why is it so fucking difficult for you to do the most simple of things?- Ramsay wondered in an angry voice, pulling his hair harshly as Theon just screamed in pain.

-Really, is it so fucking difficult to keep my dinner hot?- Ramsay asked fasely curious, as he throwed Theon in front of the fireplace.

The flames danced in front of Theon's horrified eyes as he stared at it, and all he could do then was cry and try to get away. But the harsh hand on his head kept him there, inches away from the red fire.

-Maybe you don't know what _hot_ means, pet? Is that it?- Ramsay's tone was sharp, chilling. -Allow me to teach you.- he said then in an amused voice, pushing Theon's face closer to the flame.

Theon's first instinct was to tense his body, as his trembling hands held into the top of the fireplace, pushing himself back with weak muscles. He was shaking in dread, panicking like Theon never did before, adrenaline and fear running wild in his pulsing veins. Theon heard his heart beating madly in his ears, felt it beating in his tight throat as well as he saw the fire, as he felt its melting warmth, while Ramsay applied more force into his push, tearing some of his hair, forcing Theon closer and closer to the red, burnig flames. Theon was too scared to notice, to preoccupied in getting away, in saving himself, but he was sure his head was already _in_ the fireplace. It was hot, dangerously hot, Theon was sweating and his cheek was burning up, the scorching air was drying his eyes, and the strong smoke of burnt wood surrounding him clogged his lungs as he breathe it in. Theon coaghed then, violently, feeling his lungs burning along with his face, yet he kept pressing himself back with trembling limbs, desperate to avoid the flame. _Desperate to no be incinerated._

But Theon felt his muscles gave up as Ramsay pushed him more into the fireplace, with his whole heavy body then, and Theon cried as he felt the flame melting his skin, digging into his flesh, numbing him with pain...

And then Theon was thrown to the floor, across the living room, with the cold winter air calming the burning dread and cleaning his clogged lungs. Theon tried to breathe in through his nose, but he was in a coughing fit, getting all the toxic smoke out of his system.

-Hope that tought you how hot I want my fucking food, Reek.- Ramsay's cold voice sounded muffled in his riging ears, distant.

Theon felt him getting closer, calmly walking towards his coughing form... and then felt the first kick, straight to his stomach, as Ramsay kept talking with his angry, dreaded voice, punctuating each word with a new, brutal blow to his body. But Theon did not hear him. Theon could not hear him. Because all he could heard then was the sound of the strong, vicious kicks that shook him, the ugly noise he made while he tried to breathe, Ramsay's furious puff of breath as he kicked the air out of Theon's lungs, and the defeating silence outside, sign that no one was going to save him.

_There was no one to save him... There was no saving._

-I guess that's enough to teach you how to do something so fucking simple.- Ramsay said in an exasperated tone then, with a final blow to Theon's stomach, just above his ribs.

Hearing the echo of Ramsay walking away rumbling in his ears Theon just laid there, immobile, in the middle of the living room, feeling his burned cheek pulsing in the cold air and his abused stomach aching dreadfully. The christmas lights flick on his still form as his dull sea-green eyes were set on the fireplace, on the dancing flames, on the fire poker just beside it, eyeing it lifelessly... and Theon though, just like he always did, why couldn't he just end it all. Why couldn't he be brave and strong enough to _just end it_. No one was going to come to his rescue, there was no one, it has been years, there was no way to save him, there were no rescue to made... then why couldn't Theon just put an end to it himself? It was easy, it was going to hurt just for a moment. That's all it could take, _just a moment._

_Theon needed just a moment._

_Just a moment..._

_... A moment._

Inexplicably, something snapped on Theon then. Something Theon didn't know how to explain. Like he could tell the police later, it was a break in his mind. That's how he could describe it best, a break that let something out on him. Something that took over, something that blind him, something that didn't let him think, didn't let him have any said in the _decision_ it made. Theon only remembered in a minute he was down, thinking about taking his own life to free himself, and in the next he was up, moving with a force he didn't know where it borned from. He found a way to pushed himself up, all the pain in his body anesthetized, and he reached for the fire poker in the fireplace in a sure motion.

The poker felt heavy and cold in his hot hand, but Theon didn't waste any second on it. With firm steps he reached the kitchen, eyes set on Ramsay eating his dinner, and without a thought he wield the fire poker and harshly slammed it on the side of Ramsay's head, knocking him out of the chair in an instant. Ramsay fell to the ground with a loud noise, one that Theon didn't even heard, because all he could heard in his empty head was Ramsay's amused laugh. It echoed loudly in his ears, in his paralyzed mind as Theon watched him in the kitchen floor, looming over him... and then Theon felt himself reaching for the sharp knife on the table.

Theon felt himself dropping to the floor as well, weightless, knees on both of Ramsay's sides, and then his hand just fell, simply stabbing him.

_Once._

_Twice._

_Over and over again._

Theon wasn't seeing where the knife landed in Ramsay's chest, he just saw red. All he knew was the new sensation of the blade sinking deep in the meaty flesh and the blood spurting warm into his hands. Theon let himself aimlessly stab, down Ramsay's stomach, in Ramsay's sides, in Ramsay's heart, in Ramsay's shoulders, in Ramsay's heart, in Ramsay's pectorals, in Ramsay's ribs, in Ramsay's heart, over Ramsay's collarbones, in Ramsay's heart.

_In Ramsay's heart._

_In Ramsay's heart._

_In Ramsay's heart._

_In Ramsay's---_

Theon gasped abruptably, not hearing Ramsay's laughter anymore, only his own irregular breathing. His wide, nervous eyes looked down on Ramsay's still body then, and Theon felt himself shake at the grim sight. Ramsay's pale face had splashes of dried blood across his white snow skin, while his off blue eyes were staring at the roof... staring without seeing at the roof. Theon's eyes driffed down, seeing the white shirt Ramsay often used for work was tinted dark carmine and torned in every place Theon had stabbed him, and his blood was poured into the ground, sliding through the veins of the wooden floor.

-Oh gods...- Theon whispered weakly, letting the knife fell from his hand.

Theon fell to ground along with it, crawling back on shaking legs and arms, leaving a trace of blood on the floor till his back hit the couch. Theon saw his hands full of sticky, red blood and he harshly rubbed them on his old jeans, trying to get it off, only getting his wash off jeans stained.

Hearing his heavy, quick breathing echoing mutely in the house Theon stayed there, staring at Ramsay's immobile body in the kitchen, just a few steps away. Theon didn't dare to move his eyes away from Ramsay, he wasn't dead, he just couldn't be dead. Ramsay _couldn't_ die and Theon _couldn't_ kill him. That's how it was.

“But he _is_ dead, and I _did_ kill him” Theon thought surprisingly calm, feeling his heart beat at ease.

Theon felt as if suddenly a weight had been liften from his shoulders, feeling as if a chain had been broken, feeling as if he was finally free. That's all Theon always wanted ever since this nightmare with Ramsay started, to be _free_. He always thought he could only get freedom if he died, that's why he always wanted to end everything himself, that's why he hated how he couldn't do it himself, hated how he couldn't free himself. Thing is his death wasn't going to free him, his death was just going to end his existence but his soul was still going to be linked to Ramsay, his soul was still going to _be_ Ramsay's, he was going to be just another number in Ramsay's book, another of his killings.

Theon's death wasn't going to free him... but Ramsay's was.

And Ramsay's death did free him.

Theon understood it then, finally. It took him endless years, took him horrible tortures, took him missing pieces and awful scars, it took him pain and misery and a broken heart but Theon finally understood. And Theon was finally free... he managed to set himself free.

With one final look at Ramsay's body Theon slowly reached for the phone on the table beside the couch, dialing a short number. He put the phone to his right ear and waited, hearing it calling, eyes still on Ramsay's motionless body.

- _911, what's your emergency?_ \- came the femenine voice on the other side of the line.

-I killed a man.- Theon just said, in a calm and soft tone.

- _Sir, I need you to repeat that_.- the woman told him, very much composed.

-I killed a man.- Theon said again. -I killed Ramsay... Ramsay Bolton.- he added, and just saying so felt liberating.

- _What's your name, sir?_ \- the operator wanted to know, and Theon never thought those kind of calls were like that.

-Theon... Theon Greyjoy.- Theon's heart beated anxious out of reflex, but he remained calm.

- _Where are you, Theon? Are you alone?_ \- the woman asked still composed, but Theon could heard her typing and clicking on the other side.

-I don't know, he didn't let me out... I will let the line on so you can track the number.- Theon told her, and he heard her telling something else but he just left the phone on the floor before he stood up.

It took just a few steps to get to the front door and then Theon just sat down in front of it to wait. He was sure the police could get the location with the information he gave them. His own name was probably on the missing person list, thanks to Robb, and Ramsay's last name was pretty much known in the North were he was sure Ramsay had him. Theon just didn't know where in the North he was locked. The North was vast, so vast and wide, Ramsay could've hide him _anywhere_... probably hide him so well no one could ever find him.

But even if Ramsay did that, the police already had his name and were surely calling his father that very instant. Even if Ramsay hide him well, even if Ramsay changed the phone number and the house localication in a way it could not be linked together, Roose still knew. And Roose couldn't dare to put himself and his shady business under the police's radar just because his bastard son fucked up yet again. No, Roose was going to tell the police what they needed to know. Roose was going to give them the address, Roose was going to lead the police to Theon.

With that thought in mind Theon sat to wait, watching the snow still falling outside from the little window above the door, seeing it raining calmly, painting it all white...

Theon saw the flashes of red and blue lights dancing in the dark entrance, along with the sound of a siren singing in his ears, and he let his eyes close as tears rolled down his face.

He was free... he was finally free.

And Theon smiled.


End file.
